


Hidden Secrets

by celestialteapot



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialteapot/pseuds/celestialteapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes really isn't as good at keeping secrets as he thinks he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on my [LJ](http://sherlock2040.livejournal.com/53757.html), 25th March 2007

For ten minutes I had been trying to read my newspaper. It was proving to be somewhat difficult thanks to various bumps, thuds and mild curses coming from Holmes's room. I sighed, folded up the paper and opened the bedroom door.

Sherlock Holmes was crawling about on the floor, he was pulling things out from under the bed and searching with a lantern under it. The bedding was in a complete state of disarray, as was most of the room. 

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"Nothing." He replied a little stiffly.

"There seems to be a lot of mess for 'nothing'."

"Don't be facetious."

"Sorry. Er... do you want a hand?"

"No."

"Alright." I turned and headed back into the sitting room. 

Half an hour later, Sherlock Holmes had given up his search for whatever and was now sitting in his customary arm chair, in a foul mood. I had given up any attempt to talk to him and had retreated into one of my most excellent sea novels. Holmes sat in his chair brooding, smoking his disgusting pipe and his brow furrowed in concentration.

Mrs Hudson entered with a tray bearing out dinner when Holmes suddenly shot to his feet. 

"Mrs Hudson, how many times have I specifically asked you *NOT* to touch my personal property?" He snapped somewhat aggressively. 

"Holmes!"

He ignored me. "I will not have you interfering with my private things!"

Mrs Hudson sighed and fished her hand into the front of her apron. She brought out a rather threadbare looking stuffed mouse. It had evidentially seen better days. 

"It was looking a bit tatty so I gave it a wash, repaired its ear and put a new eye on it." She handed it to Holmes, who turned a deep colour of crimson. "Really, Mr Holmes." She took the empty tray, crossed to the door and left.

I tried to disguise my laughter as Holmes stood in the middle of the room holding the stuffed mouse. 

"Don't even think about saying a word."

"I wouldn't dream of it." I replied with a grin. "Considering how long we've known each other, I've never referred to your stuffed mouse once have I?"

Holmes blushed again.


End file.
